Human
by silverbells92
Summary: D/Hr: Draco finds out that he and Hermione aren't so different, in one seemingly obvious way.


**A/N: Instead of sleeping, this happened.**

**DISCLAIMER: Now you know I don't own anything, come on now.  
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><p><strong>Human<strong>

Nights like this were the ones Hermione least looked forward to. To be on patrol of the halls of Hogwarts with Draco Malfoy as company was more like punishment than privilege. The two prefects tried to avoid each other as much as they could, but always managed to meet up again somehow. Sometimes they passed each other in silence, other times he sent a snarky comment her way and she snapped right back.

On this particular night though, they seemed to find each other more often than not and their banter went from venomous to indifferent, almost like a twisted sort of greeting to the other.

This time, they met on the staircase – he was going down while she was headed up. Their eyes met for a moment, and when she spotted Malfoy's trademark sneer of mild disgust that he always shot those he deemed himself better than, she had to bite her cheek to keep from screaming. How could just one little glance at a person's facial expression be so damn frustrating to her?

Her anger blurred her vision, which caused her to misstep and trip. Hermione fell forward and she barely had time to bring her hands up before she was crashing onto hard stone and sliding down to the bottom of the stairs again.

Vaguely, she heard Malfoy howling with laughter at her misfortune, but she paid the git no mind; she was just thankful that she had thought to block her face because if she hadn't, her chin would've hit the step hard and that would _not_ have been good for her teeth. Or her jaw. Or her head in general.

She couldn't say much for her hands though, which were scrapped and bleeding. Sitting on the floor, she examined the wounds in the dim lighting, bringing her palms close to her face so she could see better. They stung, badly, but she's had worse injuries than this.

Finally, she noticed that Malfoy was still in hysterics and she looked up to see the blond boy holding his stomach as he doubled over.

"Oh, shove off, Malfoy! It couldn't possibly have been that funny!" she yelled, ignoring the shushes she got from the sleeping painting and forgetting momentarily that there were other people in the castle. Turning back to her hands, she muttered, "You're such an infuriating git."

"Better watch your mouth, Granger," the Slytherin prefect drawled, talking a few slow steps down the stairs toward her. "Wouldn't want Gryffindor to lose any points, would we?" Currently, Gryffindor and Slytherin were tied for the most House points and while she was sure that eventually someone in her House would do something spectacularly foolish to lose them their current ranking, she didn't want that someone to be her. Instead, she bit her cheek again until she tasted the coppery flavor of blood and ignored the perpetually arrogant and annoying boy hovering over her.

He was two steps away from her when he halted abruptly, though Hermione didn't take notice of anything out of the ordinary. She was just waiting for another quip about her inferior lineage or her average appearance, which would be preludes to his imminent exit. But the silence went on and on, causing her to look back at Draco once more.

He was staring at her hands, brows furrowed in a sort of confusion. In fact, he just looked confused all over.

"What?" she asked forcefully. She has had enough of his childish games and frankly, she had no desire to play nice with him in the slightest.

"Your hands."

Though she knew the exact state of her hands at the moment, Hermione still looked down to see what he meant. Yep, they were still cut up and still bleeding.

"Yes, I've kind of noticed them actually. What about them though?"

"The blood." Draco sounded more bewildered than ever, almost in a childlike way. His tone earned him another look.

"Yes. I'm bleeding," she replied slowly and another silence followed. This was all starting to become awkward. He took another step forward – one step before he would be level with her on the landing – then swiftly kneeled down and reached forward at the same time, grabbing her wrist and pulling a hand closer to his face.

"Taking pleasure in my pain, are you?" she accused, trying to tug her arm back and failing. She should have left while she had the chance to. This wasn't a scary situation though, it was just strange. And irritating.

"It looks just like mine," he whispered, mostly to himself as it seemed. "How?"

"What? What are you-" Hermione began before she cut herself off. '_Mudblood_.'

Did he honestly believe that her blood was dirtier than his? That there would be grime and muck running through her veins in the very way that the red in his pumped through him? She wanted to laugh, but the awe etched on his face – while also adding more hilarity to the situation at hand – was nearly troubling. To actually believe her blood was any different than his, just because of who she was born to, must mean that he was told that very thing. Someone had to have sat him down and said she was different, that she was inferior, that her blood was literally dirty blood. Of course, not specifically her, but people like her. Muggleborn people.

Or maybe when he was young, he picked up on the term he frequently enjoyed calling her ilk and thought it to be absolute fact. Hermione hadn't brushed up on her psychology of the Pureblood brain lately, but she didn't find either theory to be that entirely far-fetched. Not just for Draco either, but for any of the other elitists in this school, in the whole wizarding world for that matter.

Right now, she was watching much of what Draco Malfoy knew to be true crumbling before her very eyes. Before his very eyes. It was striking.

"Yes. It does," she said, watching him examine her hand like it was some frightening and fascinating creature. "We're all human, you know."

"Yeah," he mumbled in agreement before practically throwing her hand back at her, lifting back to his feet, and bolting in the opposite direction.

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><p><strong>What do you think? For a) not having much experience with Dramione, b) not having read any Harry Potter fanfiction for months, and c) having written this at five in the morning, I thought this was pretty decent.<strong>

**Review kindly and there might be a part two. You know, if you'd like that at all. ;)**


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